A very dwarvish elf
by zigolo
Summary: Germania liked to think of himself as a well travelled country. But even he couldn't remember ever being in a place as weird as Middle earth. He could handle wolf riding demons and talking trees, but if someone called him an elf again, heads were going to roll. crossover LotrxHetalia
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **After reading hundreds and hundreds of Germania sure looks like Legolass jokes I finally snapped and started writing a fic where he gets thrown into Middle earth. About time too I've been itching to write something like this for weeks. Before you start reading there are few Head cannons of mine that you should be aware of.

First of all I think countries can understand just about any language they hear. Although young countries have more trouble with this than old ones.

Secondly in this fic Prussia is Germania's son. I don't care if you say he's more Baltic that German and blah blah blah. So without further ado, please enjoy reading my silly story.

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**A Very Dwarvish Elf**

**Chapter one.**

**Now where the Hel am I!**

When Germania awoke the world around him was eerily quiet.

At first he didn't realise this, as his return to the world of the consciousness was painstakingly slow. It was as if someone had tucked him inside of a very thick and warm cloak that felt softer than any other material he had ever touched. It was no wonder that he wanted to sleep longer and stay in the world of dreams where there were no worldly troubles annoying Romans. He could have laid there all eternity feeling nothing but utter bliss, this, however, could not last forever and he was already feeling sleep slipping away from him. First he felt warm wind playing on his skin as if someone was letting their fingertips tickle him. Then that pleasant feeling was followed with something that closely resembled a major hangover.

_I think I have a headache._

Then he realised where he was laying. On the ground to be precise, the smell of grass was unmistakeable and there seemed to be a small pebble stuck under his lower back. When a small groan escaped from him he realised he had a mouth. Something was tickling his fingertips, so he had hands as well? Somehow this felt very strange to Germania, as if he shouldn't have hands nor mouth, or it had been a very long time since he last had them.

_Who was he?_

The question came uninvited and for an agonizingly long moment he actually had to struggle to remember. Who was he? What was his name? He knew he had a name. He had _several _names. Humans had called him with different names depending the era and where they lived. It shouldn't be so hard to remember at least one of his names.

A memory swam behind his eyelids like a fish, swift and equally difficult to grasp. Small fair haired children were scowling at him. Why were they scowling? One of them tucked his sleeve and whined with a pouting voice "_Vaaaaatiii~! Saxony is teasing me_."

Vati… No, that wasn't his name but it was something similar. Vater… Der Vaterland. Yes that was what his people called him. Germania, the representation of Germanic states. Enemy of one useless Rome. Father and Grandfather of his many descendants.

Wait, he had children?! Somehow that didn't sound right. The faces of fair haired children flashed behind his eyelids again, weren't they all supposed to be grown up already. Adult nations?

He opened his eyes with a pained groan and feebly tried to lift himself into a sitting position. With few stumbling attempts he finally succeeded and proceeded to massage his temples. Dear Woden his head hadn't hurt this much since he had won that drinking competition with Scandinavia. Not to mention how muddled his memories were. How could he have forgotten his own name and - Where the heck was he anyway.

Old gnarled trees blocked most of the sunlight making the area look shadowy. Wind was rustling tree leaves gently, making Germania's hair dance in the breeze. He followed the sway of his golden strands almost in trance before quickly getting a hold of himself.

What was he doing. His head felt like it had been stuffed with wool, making thinking very difficult. With a grimace he stood up on his wobbly legs, the whole world was swaying and he had to swallow a pile down. This was not time to get sick, he had to remember how he had gotten himself into this mess and it would also be nice to know his current location.

He didn't appear to be hurt. His clothes were clean, free of blood and mud and his armour looked like he had polished it just yesterday. His armbraces, gloves and leather boots were on their proper places. Just when he was ready to sigh in relief and declare that nothing was missing he realised how vulnerably _unarmed _he was.

Where was his axe! His bow, not to mention his sword!

Almost in near panic he scanned the surrounding area. It was one thing to be lost, but to be lost without any means of protecting yourself or hunt any game. Without some extraordinary luck, that was almost a certain death sentence. With determined frown he started searching his missing weapons among the undergrowth.

He searched for almost an hour without any luck until he saw something shine under an old Oak tree, reflecting sunlight brightly. Had Germania been more susceptible nation he would have sobbed from relief when he finally spotted his trustworthy axe buried under some dead leaves. He however, was not, and merely gave a slight impatient sigh and continued searching. The shadows slowly grew taller, and it was almost evening when he decided to give up. Beside his axe, he had managed to find his old bow and few arrows that he had stuffed them under his belt (not the best place to keep them but it had to do). His sword however, had decided to remain missing and there was nothing Germania could do about it.

Feeling more tired than he should after being unconscious for most of the day he sat under a tree and tried to put his memories together. He knew who he was which was always a good thing. He had someone he disliked (hated, despised, wanted them dead!) for some reason he couldn't remember the said nation's face too well but that wasn't a big loss. Then… he had children but he was almost certain they were not children anymore. No, it was hazy memory at best but those boys should be all grown up by now. Mighty nations of their own might and Germania… Germania should be gone from this world.

It was cruel but it was how their world worked. Nations rise and Nations fall. he had lived a reasonably long time and then, one at the time, found his loud and incredibly annoying descendants stumbling around his lands.

They were always so small when he found them. No older looking than a human child that had just recently learned how to talk and walk. He supposed he could have just killed them, they would have returned back to his soil and the life would have gone on.

But for some reason, he couldn't do it. Just… couldn't.

Of course, allowing them to live meant that Germania would die soon. Each nation had one personification, sometimes perhaps two. More than that was unnecessary and so in the end Germania had become unneeded and faded away. His sons had divided his lands after his death and lived on.

Was that why he was here, was this some sort of afterlife. Germania listened the wind around him and frowned. Somehow he doubted it. If he truly strained hid memory, he could remember, little by little, of the existence, after his own fall. He had sometimes wondered it, in the deepest darkest corner of his mind and he had not been the only one. Greece had long ago suggested, that perhaps once their life as a nation ended they would turn into humans. Germania had not liked that notion at all. He rather liked being a nation and humans lived such a fleetingly short lives. But perhaps he could get used to it, if they indeed ended up into humans.

Some other suggestions had been made along the years by several nations. Perhaps there was an afterlife reserved solely for the nations. Perhaps they would simply disappear. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. No one knew for sure.

_Was _he a human now? Germania nicked his finger against his axe and watched as blood slowly dripped from the shallow cut. It only took a moment or two for the cut to heal and not leave even the tiniest scar behind. Hmm, definitely not a human then. Germania placed his right hand onto his chest and listened carefully.

For a long moment he felt nothing, only the earth under him and the wind rustling his clothes and hair.

Then… he felt faint thumping, barely there but as sure sounding as the footsteps of marching soldiers. His hear was still beating so he had to be alive.

How, puzzling. He would have liked to ponder about the sheer impossibility of his beating heart longer but cold shivers were suddenly running over his back. His breath hitched and his heart bumped faster. He couldn't remember when he had last time felt so terrified. Something was coming. He didn't know what but whatever it was he didn't want to meet it. He heard loud rustling and growling among the darkness and it was heading to his way. He barely managed to climb on top of a tall tree and hide among the bright green leaves when the largest wolf he had ever seen trotted just below his hiding place.

The wolf however, didn't unnerve him half as much as the ugly creature on its back. It was a hideous, filthy looking thing with misshapen face and snout like nose. The fact that it had a nasty looking spear grasped on its long arms and smelled like a rotting corpse, didn't make Germania feel any better. It barked something to the darkness of the forest with inhuman voice and soon many more wolves and their ugly riders appeared very unluckily right below his tree.

There was some part of Germania that chastised him for hiding like a coward. That part was quickly squished by a rather hysterical mental voice.

"_Demons_!" Germania willed his breathing remain quiet. "_Monsters_! _Wolves as big as horses! Where on Woden's name am I?"_

Germania listened carefully the language that the demons were speaking. It sounded very ugly and guttural but it reminded him of vaguely some other language. Britannia had spoken something little similar long ago. Although infinitely more beautifully. As soon as he made the connection the words were easier to understand although they still made little sense to him.

"_I say, we keep hunting. Those pointy ears can't have gone far!" _Demon on black furred wolf barked.

"_It's as you say. We get to kill some elves tonight_!" Another cackled with wicked gleam on its ugly eyes.

One of the wolves had strayed from the pack and started sniffing the base of the tree Germania was currently perching in.

"_Oh, verdammnt!" _He swore silently in his mind. "_Go away you stupid mangy mutt!"_

The wolf hesitated, almost like it didn't know what to think. Then one of the biggest demons roared once and the ugly horde of monsters vanished into the darkness.

Germania breathed once, twice, three times before he dared to move. He had seen terrifying creatures before. There lived monsters in the darkest corners of his lands too, but none like _that_.

He carefully lowered himself to the ground, feeling unreasonably shaky. He smacked himself a little. "_Get a grip Germania. Don't act like a cowardly roman." _But no amount of smacking could remove a cold feeling that had taken grip of his insides. A feeling, that told him that he was very far from his home.

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**A/N: **End of chapter one. There are no words to describe how randomly I started writing this. I'm literally pulling stuff from my arse as I go along. I suppose I shall write chapter two if anyone shows any interest in this story. Not that I have any more idea than you as to where this story is going. I apologize for any annoying grammar mistakes I have made.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: Lord of the rings is naturally property of J.R.R. Tolkien, while Axis Power Hetalia belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz.

**A/N: **New chapter has come, from the deep dark pit that is my mind. Still no idea where I am going with this, and pretty much just inventing stuff as I go along. I'm not very knowledgeable about Elves or even Middle earth, so feel free to give tips if you feel I'm drifting too far away from Canon.

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**A very Dwarvish Elf**

Chapter two.

**Britannia Would Love This Place**

Everything had gone wrong, so utterly, utterly wrong.

He and his friends had been separated from their comrades by foul orcs! For a whole night and day they had fought, and then escaped when there was no longer any hope for victory. But, oh! Their horses had fallen one, by one, and his friends had been forced on their knees and into shackles. It was sheer dumb luck that had allowed him to escape.

He gritted his teeth, anger flaring deep inside him. It was all the fault of humans! They had begged for his and his comrades help to defend their village again orcs, and what was their reward? They were abandoned at the most crucial moment! Those pathetic humans cared only about saving their own necks and nothing else. And now- now he could only hang on his steed as she ran in blind panic. Blood was pouring down his face and it was becoming more and more difficult to keep his eyes open.

_I'm sorry._

His friends, his poor friends. What would happen to them? Even in his dizzy mind he knew that there was no hope. If he had even a little more strength left, he would have turned his steed and galloped to his comrades aid, not caring at all what would happen to him. But no matter how hard he tried, there was no strength left, only haze of half conscious despair and misery.

He could see his oldest friend's mare running ahead of his horse. Blood dripping down her legs and without rider.

_I am so sorry._

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Germania didn't congratulate himself out loud, but it was a damn near thing.

It was only due his extensive experience, of roaming around his homeland's forests, that enabled him to find his way out of that thrice damned thicket. It was remarkable, what the difference, of knowing whose lands you were and the sheer knowledge that you had no idea where you were, did to your mind. The fact that the trees had effectively blocked most of the stubborn moonlight pouring through the braches, made the miracle of getting out alive all the more amazing. In the end the small river had been his guiding light. After what felt like hours of swift walking, _away _from the pack of large wolves and their foul riders, he had smelled water. The scent had been faint but there. He had followed it with best of his ability, and found a river running by a field of tall grass.

With a relieved sigh he had sat on a mossy boulder to ponder his next move. The unknown forest loomed on his left side and the river sparkled merrily in the moonlight on his right side. He could see tall mountains ahead, dark and unwelcoming.

Logically thinking his best shot was to follow the river. Almost invariably humans settled always near water. If he could find humans, he could find a map and finally figure out where he was.

A gust of wind ripped his clothes and hair, bringing fresh scent of nature and water with it. He huffed in annoyance when his braid hit him in the face.

There was a nagging thought at the back of his head. A memory of sorts. He could remember the world he had lived in vividly. The sun shining on crop fields on a warm summer day. The rabbit hunts during harsh winters and many wars that he had fought on his land. The world was still almost the same, just as he remembered it, nature was wild and untamed.

Only it wasn't supposed to be so anymore.

His world had died long ago. He had seen how his forests had been cut down. How humans had built tall buildings over old fields and meadows. World was a very different place now, as it was supposed to be. Humans didn't need to live in forests anymore, they didn't need to hunt. Life had become easier and somehow much more complicated. But this place, somehow, had remained almost the same as he remembered, and it made him feel very nostalgic.

_Perhaps humans had enough sense to keep some things unchanged_.

Germania watched the ground under his boots ponderingly. Who could have such an _old _feeling lands. He mentally started going through all his descendants but no, the feeling was all wrong. He was sure he could recognize the lands that had once belonged to him no matter how changed. Next he thought Rome's grandsons but that didn't feel right. The climate was wrong. So perhaps Scandinavia's sons, he knew they had plenty of forests, but… no, this land probably didn't belong to them either.

His ignorance made him feel frustrated and he almost stomped his feet.

_Who are you!_

The land, unsurprisingly didn't answer him.

Huffing in annoyance he stood up. There was no point, in wasting any more time thinking about these mysterious lands. He still hadn't figured out even how he was alive. Now _that _was even more pressing concern. Not to forget those ugly demons he had seen in the forests. If he didn't know any better, he would think, that this was all just a horrible nightmare caused by stress. Who knows, perhaps he truly had lost it, no one would blame him for it or even be surprised surely. Rome had that effect on fellow nations and he had been exposed to his madness more that was healthy.

Feeling quite delighted that he had found a way to cast all blame on Rome's back, he started walking towards mountains. Absently he checked that his bow was still on his left shoulder and his axe and his arrows all stuffed under his belt. He had just finished counting his arrows when he heard distant, familiar sound behind him. Hooves of two horse's clattering furiously against hard road.

Feeling extremely cautious he took a hold of is axe and looked warily into the darkness. Clouds were blocking the moon, making it difficult to see more than few feet ahead. However, he soon saw two white horses, one without rider and one with a injured looking man barely hanging onto his steed. Both horses were panicked and foaming from the mouth. He could see many shallow looking cuts on both, blood was running down their flanks freely, dying them slowly red.

Acting on impulse he waved his arms, willing the horses to stop. In response they

didn't slow their gallop in the slightest. Germania started to fear, that the horses would simply run over him, but stubbornly stayed put. At the last moment, the two animals slowed to trot and he managed to snatch both their reins, careful not to drop the rider.

The air was now filled with the noise of the heaving horses. Germania let out a string of soothing sounds, trying to calm the beautiful animals.

"There, there.." He whispers softly to the spooked horses. "Alles ist gut, shh."

The rider, seemingly have exhausted last of his strength, falls ungracefully down to the earth with a pained groan.

Germania approached him carefully. This injured person has obviously come out of battle, that much was clear. And not from the winning side either. Germania can see a dagger under the stranger's cloak and keeps a wary distance. Even if he can't be killed by a sword it would still hurt to get slashed by one.

For now, the rider appears to be unconscious. Long golden hair lays over his face, hiding it from view. Some of the yellow strands are soiled with blood seeping from a small gash on rider's left temple. He is wearing clothes that carried the same kind of earthly colours as Germania's does. The forest green and brown are smudged with spots of dirt and blood here and there, it makes Germania wonder, if someone has tried to drag the man forcibly somewhere. His hands are sullied with black, blood looking substance that makes Germania think of those foul smelling demons he saw a little while ago in the forest.

Venturing closer he inspects the stranger's injuries, he judges them serious but not life threatening. The gash on his head is the most worrisome as it has still not stopped bleeding.

With a heavy sigh, feeling annoyed with himself he rips a section of the unconscious man's frayed sleeve and presses it on the wound to stop it from bleeding. He has done this countless time on battlefields and the old routine brings a feeling of comfort with it. The feeling however, is soon forgotten when he takes a good look at the stranger's face.

_What the-_

He had seen some very beautiful people during his life. Ranging widely from exotic Egyptian noblewomen with their kohl framed eyes, to the wild untamed beauty of northern men with their braided hair and beards. Beauty was something that changed depending on culture and century. It was something fleeting that never seemed to stay exactly the same. Beauty in the eye of beholder and all that. But this man, somehow, was beautiful in a way that could only be called eternal. High cheekbones and straight nose. Pale eyelashes under graceful eyebrows and long blond hair that shone in the moonlight like a silver river.

Simply put, he was far too flawless to be a human, and that left Germania feeling very unsettled. Could this man look any more unearthly?

That was when he noticed the stranger's pointed ears.

He nearly jumped away from the unconscious stranger. What the _Hel _was he! Some kind of Fae? Forest spirit? What!

Why was this part of the world only filled with strange beings and freaks. Was it too much to ask to meet some humans. But _nooo_. He has to run mystical creatures that would probably given any change happily eat him, or something equally nasty. He wasn't Britannia, he didn't get a kick out of socialising with foreign creatures that had nothing to do with matters of state! Not caring that he was acting very childishly he stomped to the river with great temper, and wetted his face with cold water, trying to calm down.

So far, it wasn't really working.

It was just typical! Just his luck to get stranded some distant fairy world where demons roamed at night, without even his sharp sword to protect himself. His bow and axe felt pitifully inadequate in face of a death by _magical creatures _of all things. The unconscious fae, or fairy or whatever he was, would probably put a spell on him as soon as he woke up. Assuming of course that the whole thing wasn't act in the first place! He had been fooled by the elves of his homeland more than once, and damn him if he once again fell to their malicious tricks!

He jumped, startled, when one of the horses nudged him gently with its nuzzle. Dear Woden, he had almost forgotten the poor creatures in favour of treating the odd fairy. Concerned, he wiped most of the blood off from both of the horses, careful not to cause any more damage. Luckily their legs were mostly unharmed, but they had many cuts, although most had thankfully stopped bleeding. Both of them were young mares, and seemed relieved to get the blood off of them. The slightly smaller one of the horses went as far as lean on him, and start snoring quietly from exhaustion.

He patted the mare's flack amused, but froze when he heard muffled moaning coming from where he had abandoned the odd fairy. He shoot a glare at the slightly moving figure, instantly on guard. The stranger certainly sounded like he was in real pain, but then again he could be faking it. Cautiously Germania crept closer, ready to kick stranger's lights out, if he did anything funny.

Feverish gray eyes blinked at him in exhausted confusion.

_Now what should I do with you?_

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**A/N: **End of chapter two. Tolkien's "fantasy Elves" are quite different from the ones Germania is accustomed. His elves are more malicious and like to pull tricks on people. That's why he had a bit of an "It's a trap!" reaction when he saw a pretty elf, because obviously he is trying to deceive him. Also I apologize for possible grammar errors.


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